I am letting you see my worldview for your own protection.

It is the beginning of September. Summer is over and now it is Autumn(or Fall to our transatlantic cousins). Keats summed up this wonderful season magnificently in his Ode to Autumn. This is my favourite season. Yes, I enjoy the heat of the sun during the Summer months but for me Autumn is the most beautiful month. The air smells different as a slight chill pervades it. Mist rises with elongated shafts of weakening sunlight percolating through it. The splendid canopy of leaves becomes a breath taking array of gold, russet and rust. This season marks change. A new school or school year, perhaps the beginning of university or a new job. For me it always brings out the need for change in me too. A need to change some of my admirers. I find this exciting as it is a project for me and one which will bring me such rewards in new, fresh and attentive admirers. I also get to watch with interest the behaviour of the old admirers as I push them away. I have certain categories of admirer. They are as follows; Lover, Best Friend, Colleague, Family and Wildcard. I find five works best. Like a pentacle. Of course, I have lots of admirers but I assign a particularly important admirer within these categories to ensure I receive the optimum amount of attention.

Changing Lover usually creates the most fireworks. My old one usually clings on and fights which amuses me no end and the pursuit of their replacement is tantalisingly sweet. I have not decided who this will be just yet although the new female neighbour is at the forefront of my thoughts. Best Friend is usually accomplished rather easily. I have four close lieutenants and they seem content to move the mantle of Best Friend between them. Colleague is also a simple operation as I am high up in the business’ hierarchy so to become my favourite is a privilege. Family sometimes takes a bit of effort as they curiously seem to resist me doing this, but whoever I select will succumb in the end. They always do. Finally the Wildcard. This is someone random I select who does not fall into the other categories. The role is currently held by the bartender at a bar in town which I frequent. It could become the postman, a bank clerk or one of the teachers. Then again, Dr O would fill this role magnificently.


Responsibility is the price of freedom. Dr E said this to me. I told him that Elbert Hubbard had said this. Dr E was suitably impressed. Hubbard was a writer, artists and philosopher. I told Dr E that as well. Dr E asked me if I agreed with this statement. I like it when he makes a statement and invites me to comment on it. He clearly values my opinion. I said I disagreed with the statement for two reasons. Firstly, freedom is the absence of responsibility. That is why I am free. I am not shackled by the conventions of responsibility, that would inhibit me too much. My excellence at my job cannot be constrained by such a notion, that is why the legwork must be done by others. I am the creator, the genesis of the big idea. I am not responsible for others, they must lead their own lives. Yes I try to ensure they follow the right path, I guide and direct but I am not responsible for the outcome. That lies with other people. I must be free to do as I want otherwise how can I function? I cannot be kept caged. My freedom is paramount, it is my right. Dr E asked me what the second reason was. I explained that one cannot accept such a statement made by a travelling soap salesman, what would he know about the subject?

I am well known but the terms of my treatment mean I cannot reveal precisely in what way I am famous. Actually, scratch that. The multiplicity of talents that I have, I am a regular polymath, means I cannot identify precisely the one reason I am famous. What this does mean is that whenever I attend a drinks party for example, I find it exhausting. I attended one last night at the house of a close personal friend. He has a splendid house and it is near, but not equal to the value of my own. Anyway, whenever I arrive I am besieged by those seeking my attention. I find the first person I talk to wants to hear all about my achievements but I am conscious that I can see someone else glancing in my direction and no doubt wanting to listen to me. This makes for a dilemma. The person I am regaling is clearly entranced by my monologue but I see others want the benefit of my presence and I have to provide it to them. Sometimes, they make it easier and a small crowd will assemble to ooh and aah at my diatribe, but usually I have to move from person to person round the room. I often think I ought to carry a written bulletin of what I have been doing and distribute it. At least that way I can get around to everybody. I would hate to think that I would ever leave someone out. My girlfriend usually complains that I am talking to all the other women and not her, but she does not understand. She does not get the same attention that I do. That is hardly my fault is it? She even complained when she found me in the bedroom with a younger lady. We were only talking but along she comes checking up on me. She can be controlling at times and I have to put her in her place. I did when we got home, there’s no need for a dressing down in public. Still all was not lost by her interruption. I have the young lady’s telephone number and I have managed to find her on Facebook so you will have to excuse me as I have a fluttering moth that needs to be shown the light.

I have new neighbours. A man and a woman. He seems pretty ordinary and that is reinforced by his choice of motor vehicle. It is inferior to mine. He engaged me in conversation over the garden fence although I did not listen to much of what he had to say as I was watching the woman. I suspect she feels lonely because all he did was talk about where he worked and what sports he liked and did not ask about me. If he is like that with his neighbour, he must be far worse with the woman. I told him my car was better than his. A simple statement of fact. This at least shut him up and enabled me to explain why my car is superior in looks, performance and reliability. This clearly impressed the woman as she kept looking over at me and smiling. I like her. I always have done. She is attractive. Very attractive and evidently feels a connection to me judging by the looks she kept sending me. I did not get chance to speak to her as Dullard tried to bring the conversation back to him, but I resisted and kept on telling him about my car and where I went on a driving holiday. Unfortunately this meant I could not speak to her and she went inside but I could sense she wanted to engage with me. I will call on her. Preferably when the Dullard is not there. I forget where he said he worked. It obviously was not meaningful.

One of my doctors, I call him Doctor E (for earnest) asked me what my favourite colour is. I was delighted to enlighten him about this. I explained that it is not red ; too many people like red and I am not too many people. Far from it. I followed this by explaining that pink, being a tint of red is similarly displeasing. Dr E was unaware that red is the only colour that has a separate name for one of its tints, i.e. pink. I sensed Dr E does not know as much as he should. I dismissed yellow as that is the colour of emotional fragility and I don’t have a yellow streak. Orange is for children. Brown. Ugh, brown is the lumpy, unsophisticated colour of the prole. My skin crawls at the thought of that colour. Violet is the favourite colour of my ex-wife so that can be discounted too. Alongwith green for the same reason. Silver is the colour of the runner-up and therefore not applicable to me. He interrupted me at this point and said he had asked for my favourite colour not the reasons why I didn’t like different colours. I considered leaving at this idiotic comment. I was explaining all of this to help him understand my choice. I pressed on. I explained that black is acceptable since it absorbs all other colours. Blue is a colour I approve of, specifically azure as it is noble and regal. However, white is my favourite. He asked why. I said that white constitutes total reflection.